


just beyond the breaks

by norikae



Category: Monsta X (Band)
Genre: Basically, Free! AU, M/M, Mutual Pining, Unresolved Romantic Tension, journey of self i suppose, so you say race me, that then proceeds to resolve itself, when you don't know how to say you want someone to be by your side
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-10
Updated: 2019-08-10
Packaged: 2020-08-13 22:37:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,548
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20181859
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/norikae/pseuds/norikae
Summary: Kihyun makes a shocked noise, aghast, and then splashes Minhyuk again, harder this time. "I'm your best friend," he retorts, grumpy. "What does that make you?"Minhyuk grins brightly at him. "Stupid," he suggests, before commencing a running leap that terminates in a graceless cannonball into the water.





	just beyond the breaks

**Author's Note:**

> if you have watched free you will recognise i have taken rin and haru's central conflict and disc jockey'd it with elements of other characters' arcs into a remixed iteration i thought suited their characters and dynamics more... please enjoy

In the summer, Tongyeong is muggy, so humid every movement feels like aerobics. In a sauna. Sauna aerobics. 

"Saunarobics," Minhyuk says out loud, feeling particularly pleased with himself for this particular portmanteau. He doesn't know _that_ word yet - he's never been the best at books - but what he does know is that musing aloud sure beats drills, especially when the pool is disgustingly tepid, when every stroke is like an unpalatable brush of skin on sweaty skin.

On his thirty-somethingth lap of the afternoon, Kihyun emerges with a dramatic flick of his head, hand pushing the goggles and hair off of his face in the same fluid, practiced motion. "Stop lazing around," he scolds. His hands are probably on his hips; Minhyuk can't see them where they disappear into the water, the image diffracted every which way.

Minhyuk pulls the most exaggerated face he's got in his catalogue of expressions. "Not in that soup," Then he giggles. "Kihyun soup."

"I still don't know how you clocked first in the breast stroke," Kihyun remarks, audibly exasperated. "I'm not sure you're ever even in the pool."

The statement is, as is their wont at this age, a substantial hyperbole. Minhyuk had been swimming since the morning; Kihyun had rushed over from a morning extracurricular class (_Only nerds qualify for Math Olympiads,_ Minhyuk had goaded, but only because he was so impressed) after lunch, when he'd taken a break and was catching up. 

So, really, Minhyuk's only been slacking for maybe an hour of the time since the sun peeled open the sky and his heat tolerance in one fell swoop, time taken to eat included. "No swimming after lunch," Minhyuk retorts, cheekily. 

As a concession he does peel himself off the beach chair, re-sticking as a piece by the side of the pool, gazing in so Kihyun can swim up to him and swat some of the delightfully lukewarm pool soup in his direction.

They're the only ones dumb enough to be outdoors at this time of the season; most people are indoors to shy away from the sun, but their local swim meets tend to be in this exact pool. From the other end the young adult lifeguard glances up at them every now and then, familiar with the members of the swim clubs at the local grade schools. 

Minhyuk laughs, swatting blindly at the air in response to being pelted. "You're like a mermaid," he tells Kihyun, who's still bobbing by the side of the pool, "If they were mean and rude, like you."

Kihyun makes a shocked noise, aghast, and then splashes Minhyuk again, harder this time. "I'm your best friend," he retorts, grumpy. "What does that make you?"

Minhyuk grins brightly at him. "Stupid," he suggests, before commencing a running leap that terminates in a graceless cannonball into the water.

\---

Even despite that acknowledgement, Minhyuk thinks that maybe there are certain revelations that he should've timed better.

Off the side of the school playground Kihyun is looking at him with an acidity he hadn't even been aware he was capable of. He's been on the receiving end of his anger, of course - Kihyun is famously short tempered, but Minhyuk has always thought of his wrath like a firework: he bursts into flame, then sizzles out immediately after. 

This, however, isn't like any of those times before. With the expression Kihyun's wearing, it had probably been arrogant of him to assume he could be so easily forgiven. 

"What do you mean you're leaving?"

Minhyuk shifts all of his weight onto one foot. "I'm… going to Australia for school at the end of this term?" he guesses, twisting his hands together behind his back. 

When Kihyun doesn't immediately react Minhyuk hastens to his own rescue. "My dad got a job there and he said it would be good for me to swim there, too."

Kihyun is still looking at him in that strange foreign way, features unmoving. He doesn't speak for a while, until he says, petulantly, "What about the relay?"

_Oh, that_. As captain of their club and all-round outperformer, Kihyun had been offered the chance to build a team for the relay race in the upcoming meet. It would be the first time their school would participate in a team category; as with all things, Kihyun had taken it particularly seriously, and had chosen their teammates with utmost care. 

It's important to him. Minhyuk knows this.

"I'm leaving two days after," Minhyuk replies. Trying to lighten the mood, he adds, "Don't worry, Ki! I keep my promises! Who else would do the breaststroke in my place?"

Kihyun seems to relax the barest fraction, but doesn't back down - not yet. "One of the Park twins," he says, and Minhyuk laughs a little, because the only person who dislikes the aforementioned brothers more than he does is Kihyun himself. 

"You'd quit rather than swim with someone you didn't like," Minhyuk snorts. "No matter how good their timing is."

"That's not true," Kihyun protests instantly. "I picked you because you're fast, you know. That's all."

"So you're not mad I'm leaving for reasons not related to the race?" Minhyuk blurts. Instantly he regrets it. It isn't the fairest question to ask.

"Why would I be," Kihyun retorts, lightning-quick. "If your dad's going you have to go too, right?"

Minhyuk chews on his lower lip. "I mean, Minseok and my mum are staying here. So."

The thing is, when his father had asked him if he wanted to go, Minhyuk had leapt at the chance. To be able to train on a bigger stage, to live in an exciting new place, to focus on swimming and not be bound by a stifling culture of books back home - all these things had made refusing a redundant option. 

But now, admitting the choice to Kihyun, he wonders what it is that he's actually trying to say. If he's asking something, and if so what the desired answer is.

"Oh." Kihyun deflates, suddenly, all of the previous anger no longer anywhere to be found. "Well." He stares at his feet, scuffs his shoe against the thinning grass a few times aimlessly before he says, "But you'll write, right?"

Minhyuk fights a losing war against the sudden confusing disappointment he is sure he has no right to feel. "Of course," he says, throat murky. "Every day, if you'll let me."

\---

_dear ki,_

_how are things back home? I mean in Tongyeong haha i guess it isn't home for me anymore. (???) Our house here is a little bit big for me and dad so i think i will ask him if i can get a cat._

_School started last week. I studied English really hard over break but I can't understand anything in class so I only had time to write to you now… dont be mad please!!_

_swimming lessons are really good though, the coach tries to help me understand and everybody on the team is very nice. I dont think anyone ive met yet is as good as you, though. Write back soon!_

_youre smelly,_

_min_

-

_Dear Min,_

_Why are we writing like emails are letters? Nothing has changed much except your seat in class is empty now. We've all been studying very hard and I think everyone is stressed. I can't wait for exams to be over. _

_If you get a cat, send pictures. Mum won't let me because she says I won't be able to take care of it. I guess she's right but wouldn't you be worse? Haha._

_It's okay. This reply is late too. I hope your English is better now… I would help you but it is my worst subject after all. Sorry._

_Will you be in any competitions? I bet you're really good now. I haven't been able to swim since exam prep started…_

_You need a new nose,_

_Kihyun_

-

_dear ki,_

_How is middle school??? I bet you're in the best one right? dad let me get a cat after I made a presentation on cat care and a booklet and showed them to him!!!!!!!!!!!!!!_

_[image attachment] _

_shes soooo cute right? Her name is Riceball because shes so white and fluffy._

_I think my English is good now! At least it's better than your's i think haha … training is tougher now but my timings are improving!!! what about you??_

_english genius signing off,_

_Min_

-

_Dear Min,_

_Riceball is really very cute. Say hi to her for me._

_Your English might be improving, but what's happening to your Korean? "Your's" huh… _

_I met some of the others the other day. Jooheon and Hyunwoo-hyung said they miss you. Will you come back any time soon? _

_Ah, I wanted to write more, but I just remembered I have a class test tomorrow. I hope this finds you well._

_Kihyun_

\---

"_Minhyuk?"_

This… hadn't been on the agenda. Minhyuk tugs at his muffler and blinks a few more times for good measure, just so he can be sure that his eyes aren’t playing tricks on him. Nothing about the scene in front of him changes. “Ki.”

Still looking dumbfounded, Kihyun takes a step closer to him. It had snowed all night the day before; Minhyuk feels the cold setting in, and takes a deep, grounding breath, feeling it rattle his lungs and flood his system with the chill. “You didn’t reply my emails,” he says, plainly.

No, he hadn’t. “Things were very sudden,” Minhyuk says, softly. “With dad and mum’s schedules we weren’t sure if we’d be back until like, last week, and then…” He stops, not wanting to continue. “Yeah.”

Kihyun frowns, like he can read through the lines, too, like he sees that there’s something else Minhyuk isn’t telling him about. He looks up, at the overcast sky, and then back down at Minhyuk, taking a step forward and grabbing him by the lapel of his coat. 

“Race me,” he says, face set into a hard expression that seems to lack any real direction. He’s looking at Minhyuk, but it feels like he’s searching for something he doesn’t have.

“It’s winter,” Minhyuk says dumbly, trying not to focus on the knot of Kihyun’s brow, the stubborn furl of his mouth. 

“The indoors pool is open all year round,” Kihyun counters. “Or have you forgotten?”

He hasn’t. “You only swim freestyle,” Minhyuk points out. 

Kihyun’s mouth draws grimly taut as he shifts all of his weight onto his other leg. “We can swim breaststroke, if you want,” he offers, brazenly. “Why, afraid you’ll lose?”

Minhyuk bristles just the tiniest bit. “That’s not it,” he starts, “It’s just -”

“Just what?”

He stops, not sure what it is he’d wanted to say, either. “Okay,” Minhyuk concedes. “Fine. Let’s race.” 

  


“_No_,” Minhyuk says, dumbstruck. 

Slowly he climbs out of the pool, limbs weighty with chlorine and his own disbelief. He pulls himself into a sit at the side of the water, and stares at Kihyun, unable to take control of the expressions flitting across his face. 

“There’s no way that happened. I want a rematch.”

Kihyun pushes his hair back from his forehead, and pulls his goggles up and away from his eyes, wiping the residual water away as he does. “The results are what they are, Min,” he states, dismissively. His arms are crossed over his chest, challenging.

“_No_,” Minhyuk says, obstinately, “There’s no way. You must’ve let me win or something.”

Kihyun purses his lips, the barest fraction. “I didn’t, though.”

“That literally _cannot_ be,” Minhyuk insists. He looks at Kihyun, then out to the other end of the pool, then back. “I don’t believe - it was _freestyle_, Ki, you never lose at free -”

“You won, fair and square, Min.” Kihyun hasn’t made a move to get out of the water. It makes him look small. “I guess your training paid off.”

That isn’t it, and he knows it. Minhyuk shakes his head again - he’d insist further, but any battle of wills waged between them has always been a long war, and he doesn’t feel up to that, not right now. Instead he scrambles into a squat, and reaches a hand out to Kihyun, inviting. “I don’t believe it,” he says, again.

Kihyun doesn’t reach for his outstretched hand. “Yeah?” he says, tone odd.

Minhyuk blinks slowly, dumbfounded, and wiggles his hand a little more in Kihyun’s vision. He finds it easier to focus on the funny peak of Kihyun’s hairline, where it dips back into his forehead, when he says, “You’ve always been better, after all.”

Kihyun very clearly sees his hand. Instead he turns away. “Yeah, well,” he says flippantly, “I guess not anymore.”

Feeling foolish Minhyuk finally drops the limb, sinking back onto his haunches and staring at the ceiling. “Don’t say that,” he pleads. “You're the genius one of us. This is just - I don’t know, a fluke, or something.”

“You know that isn’t true,” Kihyun says, dismissively. “You didn’t go overseas to stay the same. I’d be more concerned if you’d lost.”

“I mean,” Minhyuk starts. Kihyun has always been the one who’s ahead, and so it has always been _in front_ that Minhyuk has looked for him. The very notion of looking up and not finding him there is… disconcerting. It doesn’t sit well. Feels wrong.

He takes a deep breath, ignoring the comment about why it was that he went overseas, and says, “Kihyun, can I at least ask something of you?”

“We’re not racing again,” Kihyun snaps, cutting him off.

“That’s not it,” Minhyuk shakes his head, softly. “Please - can you promise me you won’t give up on swimming?”

Kihyun’s head snaps up at this, and the look he levels him with is something almost incomprehensible. “I don’t have to promise _anything _to you,” he bites. 

It’s far more cutting a response than he had expected. Minhyuk flinches, taken aback, and blinks rapidly a few more times before trying again. He wants - he doesn’t know what he wants, or why it’s so important to him, but it’s almost selfish when he begs, voice cracking, “Please?”

“Go away, Minhyuk,” Kihyun says instead, turning to stare at the water and pulling his goggles back over his eyes. “I’m sorry I called you out here.”

Then he is gone, rapidly pulling away from him. Minhyuk watches for a while, waiting on the chance that Kihyun might change his mind. But eventually it becomes clear that he won't, and his mother expects him back for a dinner they haven't had in a year; Minhyuk turns and waves as he leaves, even knowing that there will be no wave back.

\---

_Dear Ki,_

_I really am sorry I didn't tell you I was coming back in December. I barely had the time to do anything between training and school and I saw your email before we'd firmed things up but by then it had been so long it might've been even worse if I replied so I just...didn't. _

_...I know that sounds bad. I guess it is. I wanted to text you too, but I didn't know if you were going to want to meet me on such notice and I thought I shouldn't put you on the spot like that. And I don't know if you've changed your number, or anything. Have you?_

_It's still cold out, but Coach told me there's basically no such thing as an off season when you're aiming to be Olympic. :( _

_I have to sleep now because I have practice in the morning. Please don't be mad… _

_Write soon,_

_Minhyuk_

-

_Dear Ki,_

_Yesterday was the one year anniversary of Riceball coming to live with us! We held her a little party, with a cat cake and everything. I told her to make a wish, but I don't know if she understood me. She's a cat, after all._

_[image attachment]_

_You know, ever since you pointed out my Korean was getting weird I've been working on studying it too. I'm running out of dramas to watch, but I think it really helps._

_Yesterday one of my team mates asked me about my friends back home and I told him about you. He said he'd want to race you, if you ever met. _

_I don't know if you read these. I hope you do._

_Minhyuk _

_-_

_Dear Kihyun,_

_Jooheon told me that you're doing really well in high school. He also said you guys set up a swim club. I'm glad._

_I'm doing pretty good myself. Wanna compare grade averages?_

_I'll be back in Tongyeong the last week of February. This time, I'm letting you know, so. Do you want to meet?_

_Minhyuk_

_-_

_Dear Minhyuk,_

_Sure._

_Kihyun_

\---

The lobby of the swimming complex is devoid of people. Minhyuk totters to the counter and peers over it to find that it is, in fact, manned; there's a teenager dead asleep on the smooth wood laminate, cheek pressed to the surface.

"Tsk," he says out loud, as if he wouldn't do the exact same if he'd stayed here and inevitably started working there part time during term breaks. Absently he swipes a mint and pops it into his mouth. Then he turns on his heel, with a last look at the unconscious form, and slowly penguin walks his way over to the tiled walls.

This isn't their swimming club; there are no old photos for him to stare woefully at. And it's a pity about the counter kid, too - he'd been hoping for some sort of distraction.

Minhyuk decides, promptly, that this whole dilly-dallying affair is a bust. He doesn’t know what he and Kihyun are going to do, or what they’re going to say; all they had decided on was a place and time, and now, standing here, he feels the nerves get to him, realise just how much there is that he cannot say.

Maybe he should swim a few laps to cool down. Minhyuk pivots on the balls of his feet, ready to head straight into the changing room, except when he completes the one-eighty he nearly walks straight into someone he hadn’t heard coming in.

“Ah - ”

“Sorry - !”

And then, in unison: “Oh.”

“I didn’t think you’d be here yet,” Minhyuk blurts, somewhat unnecessarily. All he knows is that he has to stop them from falling into the sort of silence that is too heavy for him to hold. Abruptly, he adds, “The kid at the counter is sleeping.”

Kihyun looks up at him through the corner of his eyes, like he’s unwilling to face him straight on. “That’s Woosung,” he says, and it almost sounds offended. “He was in class 5-B.”

Which had been the class next door in fifth grade. Even if he’d never really cared about anyone who wasn’t his immediate circle - so Kihyun, mostly, and a few others from the swim club - Minhyuk feels appropriately chastised. _It’s about the distance_, he thinks. _The time_.

“I couldn’t really - see his face,” he mutters, weakly. He looks down at his feet and contemplates his Asics for a moment. Finally he looks up, breathing in deeply, and summons the courage to open his mouth to speak.

“Race me.”

Instantly a shroud of fear seems to cast itself over Kihyun’s face, darkening his now sharp, fine features. “What for,” Kihyun says, tone wilfully argumentative. Minhyuk wonders if he knows just how transparent his unwillingness is, even if the reason for that reticence is less evident.

“I won last time,” Minhyuk taunts, because Kihyun has always been far too easy to bait. The words come out easily even without his really meaning them. He echoes Kihyun’s words from the last time they met. “Why, afraid to lose?”

Kihyun’s brows shoot up for a moment, as he recognises the comment for what it is, then draw instantly back down, hardening into something grim. “Let’s go,” he says, curt. Minhyuk watches dumbly as he swiftly brushes past, making a beeline for the changing room. 

Despite the taunt - despite Kihyun’s evident displeasure in response to Minhyuk’s calculated jibe, there is nothing hostile at all in the action. Maybe that’s what cuts.

Minhyuk carefully picks a different aisle to store his things and change, doing it as quickly as possible so as to not inadvertently offend Kihyun by being too slow. They haven’t spoken since the race over two years ago, but Minhyuk guesses he’s as much of a stickler for punctuality as he’s always been. 

...or some part of him is hoping that that’s the case. He can’t lose out on changes if they haven’t happened, after all.

“Anyway,” Minhyuk says, out loud, slamming the locker shut as he walks out towards the pool area. Muscle memory pushes him into his stretches as he valiantly avoids making any eye contact with Kihyun whatsoever. He knows that if he does he’ll start comparing - trying to catalogue any difference between the Kihyun he remembers and the one in front of him. He isn’t sure what it is he’d find.

In the periphery of his vision he sees Kihyun straighten up and watch him. Minhyuk unfolds, as well, and smiles at him with a bravery he doesn’t feel. “Ready to go?” he asks.

Kihyun’s answer is a long, heavy gaze that sweeps out to the water. Minhyuk reaches for his own goggles as Kihyun drops into the pool, and takes his place at the start of the lane. They take simultaneous breaths and begin to count down. 

_Three…_

_Two…_

_One…_

_ Go!_

The water, when he surges into it, is the same as it always is. There is a peace that instantly envelops him, a feeling of rightness in the blue, the strange slow-motion near-void of sound. Minhyuk falls into the familiar motion without preamble, his training taking over for him until he remembers who it is he’s up against, Kihyun’s energy searing through the distance between them.

Then he’s part of it, too, every stroke a push forward, fueled by an underlying desire to _win, win, win_. He rounds the turn before Kihyun does. He knows his kick puts him even further ahead. This is what he’s trained for. At this point it is in his blood.

Then there is a twinge in his shoulder, and Minhyuk lags on the stroke. He swallows against the pain and compensates with the other arm, bearing it out as he tries to regain his momentum on the next beat. 

But the inertia has already set in; he knows from mere feeling alone that he is no longer moving at his initial speed, and even as he carries on towards the finish there is no surprise when he hears the slap of hands on tile that are not his own.

A split second later he hits the finish. He’s barely surfaced when there’s a voice in his ear, persistent, demanding a sharp _What the hell was that?_

He removes his goggles and wipes the water out of his face. “You won,” Minhyuk says, shrugging. He doesn’t look at him. “I guess I was wrong after all.”

“You _threw_ that,” Kihyun hisses, in response. “You were ahead of me. I _saw_ you.”

“I didn’t lose on purpose,” Minhyuk replies, just an edge too sharp. “Why would I even do that?”

“Because you feel sorry for me,” Kihyun replies in an instant. “I don’t know why, but you think that I need to win this to feel better.”

It’s close. Minhyuk remembers the way he had felt when he had won their previous race, how he’d almost hated himself for his hard-earned victory. Sometimes when he closes his eyes he sees the look on Kihyun’s face when he was trying to pretend it didn’t matter, an imprinted memory.

But _close_ doesn't mean it's _it_. “That’s not true,” he says evenly. “It’s presumptuous of you to think I _want_ you to feel better.”

Kihyun lets out a derisive laugh at this, rolls his eyes and scoffs out loud. “Presumptuous?” he asks, sucking the word in like it is something sour. “Big word for someone pretending not to have a martyr complex, huh."

He's never been one to pull his punches. Minhyuk inhales deeply, sharply, relishing the way it catches in his lungs, and tries to ignore how that isn't the only thing that stings.

"Believe what you want," he manages eventually. "I've never lied to you. As long as I know that, it's enough for me." With this pronouncement Minhyuk gathers himself and heaves himself out of the pool. 

With what little dignity he has remaining he towels off, refusing to look back. "Bye."

\---

"You did _what?"_

Minhyuk winces, glancing around nervously at the other patrons in the Ediya they're in. "Please sit down," he tells Jooheon very quietly, "I do not want to be kicked out of any coffee joints in the first month I'm back here."

Jooheon relaxes from his outraged stance only enough to clap his hands on the edge of their cheap plastic table, squaring his shoulders up as he hisses. "Are you _actively _trying to ruin the only friendship that's ever meant anything to you, or what?"

"You're forgetting I'm friends with _you_," Minhyuk retorts, taking a long, tetchy sip of his iced coffee.

"You know what I mean," Jooheon shoots back, lightning quick. He shifts his feet in agitation as he does this, making the chair scoot a little and squeak noisily in the process. "You guys have this whole weird - _thing_, going on."

Minhyuk has to peek timidly out between his fingers to reply. "_Please_ sit," he begs. "_Please._"

"You," Jooheon says, then sighs. Unceremoniously he drops back into his chair and tucks himself in towards the table. Tentatively Minhyuk lowers his hands. "Okay. What did he say to make you do that?"

"Huh?"

"I don't know him well, but I've always known you. Kihyun-hyung must've said something to trigger such a polar response."

Minhyuk chews on his lip, silently cursing the fact that Jooheon does, indeed, know him well. Better than nearly anyone, in fact.

"We raced. I lost. He thinks I did it on purpose."

Jooheon raises his eyebrows, letting out a low whistle. "And?"

"And what?"

"And did you?"

Minhyuk jerks into a reflexive shoulder-swat. "Of course I didn't," he cries. "Whose side are you on, mine or his?"

Jooheon returns the favour by biting the air dangerously close to Minhyuk's hand, causing it to fly back to safety. "Then why'd you lose," he asks, plainly. "He's not the one who went overseas to train."

Minhyuk wonders if he looks as lost as he feels. "I," he flounders. "Kihyun has always been good. Better than me."

"Except you could already beat him a few years back," Jooheon points out. "So how did you lose?"

There is very little deceiving Jooheon. It had been a fool's venture to even try. "Injury acted up," he sighs, relenting. "I would've won otherwise."

"Ah." Jooheon's sharp eyes narrow significantly. "Injury?" he echoes. "Is that why you're back for real now?"

He'd been hoping to delay this conversation as much as he could. "...Yeah," Minhyuk admits, looking away. Through the glass walls of the cafe he watches a group of middle schoolers pass by on the sidewalk, chattering excitably. "I thought you might've guessed."

Suddenly the air at the table is glum. "...Hyung," Jooheon mumbles. "I didn't want to ask. I thought...thought you'd maybe switched back to a club here, or your dad's work had taken him back to Korea, or something."

Minhyuk smiles. He knows it's bitter. "Dad's still in Australia. The only one out of the pro game is me."

Jooheon looks lost. "I'm so sorry," he says. "I didn't… I figured you'd tell me when you wanted to, I'm. I shouldn't have asked."

Minhyuk shakes his head, leaning over to give Jooheon a light punch in the shoulder. "It's fine," he says. "At least I'm back."

Jooheon gives him a doubtful look, like he knows each and every one of Minhyuk's reservations. "Does he know?"

He grimaces instinctively at the very suggestion. "No. And if you tell him you're _dead_."

"Whoa, whoa. Calm down there, soldier." Jooheon's face scrunches into a very bizarre mix of worried and disapproving. "I won't say anything if you don't want me to."

"_But_," he continues, with that unshakable rightness he's always had, "Are you absolutely sure?"

Minhyuk recognises the question for what it is. An invitation to consider, _properly_, the ramifications of any one of his dramatic decisions. He elects not to RSVP.

"Of course," he chirps, brightly. "Now hurry up. There's a new pair of sneaks I've been meaning to check out."

\---

Minhyuk presses the button to signal his desire to alight when a familiar outline of buildings pulls into view, tapping out a quick reply before clicking his phone and shoving it into his pocket.

_minhyuk_

im reaching

jungho hwaiting!!!!!!

_jungho_

geez hyung, punctual as always

thanks tho:)

_Snappy little brat_, he thinks fondly as the bus grinds to a halt. It's a bright and beautiful Saturday morning - the perfect time for his little cousin's swim meet, which is also the only reason he's up before noon on a weekend.

He hops off and makes his way for the swimming complex. His uncle and aunt, he's informed, already have spots in the spectator stands; Minhyuk carefully weaves through the throng in order to find them, apologising for being late as he takes his spot.

Jungho, he knows, has a spot in the 400m freestyle. Minhyuk is both excited and tentative to see his performance - he's only ever been a 100 kind of guy. He leans back into his seat and engages in idle chatter with Jungho's parents as they wait for the competition to start, children scampering into place and latecomers hurrying to find seats.

Honestly, they hadn't needed to come so early, but it would've been rude to filter in late, and this way they have a great view. Minhyuk hums to himself as the shriek of a whistle tears through the air and the first event starts, halfheartedly rooting for the fastest kid just because sports events aren't any fun unless you've picked someone to watch. There's something about the way he swims that feels familiar, Minhyuk thinks, then laughs. Trust him to get sentimental over nothing at all.

In no time there is the sound of race timings lighting up on the announcement boards. _Seo Minjoong_, lane 3. Minhyuk peeks down to confirm - it is, of course, his de facto pick. He watches absently as the boy looks at the scoreboard and lets out a whoop of joy, before turning and running off into the shadows, where his coach must be waiting for him.

Curiously, Minhyuk catches sight of two people who rush to greet the boy. One of them is Coach Kim, who's worked at the local swim club for as long as he can remember. But the other smaller form…

_It can't be_, Minhyuk thinks, dumbfounded, even though it shouldn't be that much of a stretch of the imagination. The man stretches both his hands in the air and cheers with the boy, and Minhyuk would know that smile anywhere, regardless of the time in between.

_Kihyun is a coach at our old swim club now?_

Even from all the way up here there is something numbing about the way Kihyun carries his unadulterated joy, affectionately ruffling the hair of the kid before sending him off to go and change. An uncomfortable, greasy weight settles deep in Minhyuk's gut at the longing he feels for that face, a sharp contrast to the animosity with which they'd parted.

...But he's not here for that. Minhyuk forces himself to pay attention, at least until his cousin takes the starting block, watches him soar into the water when the referee whistles _go_.

He claps the appropriate amount when Jungho places second. After, he stays as long as ceremony dictates, and when all of that is said and done he lets himself give in to the heartache, and hurriedly takes his leave.

\---

"Okay," a voice drawls as a person drops into the seat opposite him at the patio of the GS25 opposite their old grade school. "I know you didn't call me out here just to catch up, so out with it. What's up?"

"Hyungwon!" Minhyuk exclaims, then follows it with a weak chuckle. "Don't say that. I sent you emails every week." He slides the cup of soda he'd purchased in preparation for this very confrontation. "Please take this offering as apology."

"More like every month," Hyungwon snipes. He still swipes the drink and starts inhaling it, pausing only to speak in between. "If you remembered. Which was only true half the time. Also I'm still mad you didn't tell me you were back that one time."

"Wait, Jooheon told you?" Minhyuk bolts up straight in his seat. He doesn't know whether he wants to kill or kiss Jooheon for saving him the trouble of informing Hyungwon. "Then you also know about the -"

"The race, yes, that you and Kihyun had. Which you won."

Remembering it - having it put to him like that colours Minhyuk with a heavy sort of guilt. "Yeah," he says, slowly. "That."

Hyungwon eyes him almost mistrustfully for a moment before continuing. He knocks the ice around the cup with his straw as he speaks. "It's related to why you called me here, isn't it?"

Minhyuk chews on his lip for a long second. "Yeah, well," he mutters, losing the internal fight with himself. "I just wanted to know if. You know. Kihyun's still swimming."

"Huh." Hyungwon's eyes are clear and bright beneath his heavy lids. It's clear that wasn't the question he'd been expecting. 

He answers anyway. "I mean...yeah. He's in the school swim club, and last I heard took up shifts assistant coaching at our old swim centre." 

Then he leans back, gaze fixed on Minhyuk's face. "But you knew that," he realises aloud, softly. "Why'd you have to ask then, Min?"

Minhyuk wrestles briefly with his dignity. "I had to make sure," he admits. "And it wasn't like there was really anyone else I could ask."

Hyungwon quirks an eyebrow. "Is that so," he states, but mercifully does not press. "Well. There you have it, I guess."

Minhyuk smiles shakily in return. "I guess I do." Then something occurs to him, and he says, abruptly, "Hey."

"Yeah?"

"You guys are in the same class now, right?"

A slowly tilted head in reply. "Yeah, since year one." Hyungwon drags the syllables to their fullest before letting them go. Without moving his gaze he lowers his head to his drink, eyes fixed persistently on Minhyuk's face the entire time. "Why?"

Minhyuk offers up his most convincing expression. He knows it comes out eight parts sheepish, two parts guilty. "Has he said anything about his school choices?"

It seems that he's finally pushed Hyungwon's infinite patience to its limit. "Lee Minhyuk," Hyungwon says, very incredulously. "Both of you spend all your time racing and not speaking, but you want to know where it is he's heading off for university?" 

He looks away for a moment, huffing noisily through his nose. When he turns back it's head first, then gaze following through after. "What, so you can go to the same school and continue _not_ talking to each other there?" 

Minhyuk flinches, even if Hyungwon's tone is considerably milder than he probably deserves. "I just…" Want to know if he's going to stay in Tongyeong, or heading to Seoul. Hyungwon would ask why. And he would have to figure out the answer. 

He settles for the cop out. "...need to look at a good benchmark, you know?" 

"Since when have you been concerned about grades, fishbrain," Hyungwon sniffles. "What schools _are_ you looking at, anyway?"

Oh. He doesn't have a clue. "I don't have a clue," Minhyuk admits. He scrambles to get another word in before Hyungwon's eyebrow can disappear into his hairline. 

"But - ! Kihyun would!" The premise is weak; he soldiers on. "Which is why I have to know where he's going! So I can figure out what it is that's - that's good, that I should be aiming for. You know?"

One of Hyungwon's eyebrows climbs up, the other dipping comically low. "Uhuh," he drawls, unconvinced. 

Then he licks his lips, distracted, and speaks very slowly, every word considered. "You know - you've always been incredibly attached to him. It's not like you have to hide that." He punctuates this with a long drag through his straw, filling the space with the noisy clang of a drink that's on its last legs.

Has he? "W- What," Minhyuk stutters. "You can't just say things like that, 'Wonnie. I just. He's always the best at everything, y'know, so I thought that he'd…" The excuse peters off. He shrugs halfheartedly. "Yeah."

Hyungwon's brows don't ease up; if anything, they seem to crease worse. "Min," he repeats. He makes it sound like a scolding. Luxuriantly he sucks a cube of ice into his mouth and begins to crunch on it, ruminating.

"Hyungwon," Minhyuk shoots back in reply, then settles for beseeching. "Okay, okay okay. How about we scrap it - let's just _not_ talk about this. Okay?"

"Uhuh," Hyungwon mutters doubtfully. _Crunch, crunch, crunch_.

"A-and _don't _tell him I asked," Minhyuk adds, suddenly alarmed. "Please."

Hyungwon's lids flutter; he clearly has his own thoughts on the matter. "Okay," he says at last, idly. Minhyuk knows there's a 95% chance he's dragging his reply only because he likes watching Minhyuk suffer. "But dinner's on you."

\---

The school term ends on what might be one of the stickiest summers yet. 

Once a week, sometimes fortnight, Minhyuk heads down to the swim club, cap on, sweatshirt hood up, and sunglasses firmly in place. He's always relieved to find other people there in the stands when he goes - it means he stands out less, even if they do give him a strange look or two. 

Minhyuk never stays for long - ten, maybe fifteen minutes each time, just enough to assure himself that Kihyun is still there, is doing good, is well and fine. Enough to convince himself he's going to go up there and talk to him. Enough to realise maybe not.

It makes him feel silly or a little awful, sometimes, which is how he talks himself out of more frequent visits. But every time he thinks that he might be able to reach out he invariably never does. And each time he thinks _next time_, and convinces himself that he eventually will, even as he knows he's going to put it off again. 

Until the choice is taken from him. On a sweltering day in late August Minhyuk is heading out of the washroom to go home when he runs into Kihyun, quite literally, eliciting a strong sense of deja vu. 

Hurriedly he drops his phone into his pocket. "Kihyun," he says, dumbly. "F - fancy seeing you here!" His voice squeaks on the exit. It's fine, he tells himself. Fine. There's nothing _left_ of their friendship to lose, anyway. 

"I was wondering when you were gonna talk to me," Kihyun says, conversationally. His tone is neutral, even as the glint in his eye suggests he's known for weeks. 

Minhyuk doesn't know if he should take Kihyun's calm as a warning or a green light. Instead he shuffles awkwardly, shifting all his weight from one foot, to the other, and then back. He opens his mouth, catches sight of Kihyun's face in terrible proximity, and falters, closing it again and looking away. 

"Look," Kihyun says plainly, when it becomes apparent that Minhyuk isn't going to move the conversation along without some prompting. "Minhyuk. I'm not mad at you, okay?"

The gentleness in his voice is startling. Minhyuk blinks abruptly, looking back up, and does his best not to flinch away when he asks, "You're not?"

Kihyun lets out a snort. "No. Not anymore, anyway."

_Oh_. "Oh." Minhyuk stutters. _But he tends to hold grudges. _"But you tend to hold grudges."

Kihyun quirks his head and smiles lopsidedly, in that strange incomprehensible way he's always had. "Hard to stay mad at someone dressed like the textbook definition of a suspicious person in the dead of summer."

Then he abruptly changes the subject. "You're back for real," he says, eyes narrowing. "When?"

The corridor outside the men's room is hardly the best place to be having this conversation. Minhyuk takes a deep breath, counts to three, and when he lets it out, he suggests, "Why don't we talk after practice?"

  


Two hours later finds them both seated on the floor of the storage room, life vests and floats racked up neatly against the wall behind them. Minhyuk toes absently at a pool noodle that has fallen over, waiting as Kihyun ticks a few things off on a clipboard.

"...28...okay, all done." Minhyuk hears the clatter of a clipboard as Kihyun sets it down to the side. He inhales, just a split second after Kihyun does. He is rushing for the exhale when Kihyun says, to the point, "Where do we start?"

God, he doesn't know. The sponge of the pool noodle is oddly comforting as he forces himself to finish the breath. He thinks that he ought to go first. "Three months," he admits, in a rush. "You asked. I - I've been back this entire semester."

He watches Kihyun's eyes widen the barest fraction. "The race," he breathes, but the space they are in is so small that it is nearly deafening.

Minhyuk shrugs as nonchalantly as he can manage. "Didn't throw it. I told you."

Kihyun has always been fast on the uptake. "Where," he demands, shakily. "How could you be so careless - Minhyuk, you idiot."

Reflexively Minhyuk winces. He briefly considers playing it off. He could pretend it isn't that serious, act as if it's only a break he's taking and not the end of his sporting career.

It is a disservice to Kihyun to even contemplate him falling for it. "Torn rotator cuff," he says, looking away. "Pushed too hard one too many times." 

The ensuing silence is unbearable. "Don't pity me," Minhyuk warns. His voice comes out uneven, breaking high on the last syllable. "You can do anything but that."

Kihyun purses his lips. Minhyuk can almost see him counting the seconds as he allows the appropriate time for _I'm sorry_ to lapse. Eventually, he mumbles, "I didn't know."

Minhyuk smiles brightly. "Good. I didn't want you to."

"Why?"

"Because," Minhyuk starts, sucking in a long breath. "Because then you might look back at me, instead of straight ahead."

He looks up just in time to see Kihyun reel at that, visibly stunned. "What does that even mean?"

"It _means_ that - that changes aside _I know you_, Ki, and if you thought I had to give up my dream you would never want to pursue it without me being able to. Even if you'd never admit it." He pauses. "I can't do that to you."

He can feel Kihyun watching him. "Why do you want me to swim so badly?"

"Because you've always _been_ better. You're the one who should be ahead. When I couldn't keep up - in my new club - I couldn't help feeling like if it had been you you'd never have let it get to that point. You… you should've had my opportunity. And it feels like I've just wasted it."

"Minhyuk." He hears Kihyun shuffle as he shifts position. "That isn't true."

"Ever since leaving you've worked so hard," he points out softly. It sounds like it takes effort for him to get the words out when he says, "You are more deserving than anyone."

"I -," Minhyuk starts, turning his head only to stop abruptly when he finds Kihyun a mere fraction away. He watches Kihyun's eyes flicker briefly downwards, traces the arc of long lashes sweeping downwards and then back up all too soon. If he so much as breathed they might touch.

It occurs to him, then, with startling clarity, that they could kiss. It would be so simple. Something like a confession. A moment of vulnerability, and the two of them alone in a small room. 

It would be too simple. He doesn't know if he would be able to handle the aftermath. 

In his hesitation the moment is gone. Minhyuk lets out a soft yelp and falls backwards, catching himself on the palms of his hands, and Kihyun lets out a pitchy breath that could be akin to laughter.

"Sorry, sorry," Kihyun coughs, laughing through it. "I'd forgotten how uncoordinated you can be."

Minhyuk pouts in reply. "Hey," he grumbles, raising his volume to hide the weird mix of relief and disappointment that the conversation is over. He wonders how much of it can safely be left to another day. "Truce?"

When Kihyun looks at him, he wonders if they were ever truly fighting. A series of missed connections, maybe. A set of lines with the angles all wrong. 

"Okay," he replies, face breaking into that radiant smile that makes Minhyuk think of the sun. "Truce."

\---

Now that they'd had something like the talk he'd thought they'd needed to have, Minhyuk stops going.

It's mostly a relief. He'd felt kind of awkward sitting there all those times, truth be told, and it's nigh impossible to even think of turning up and sitting where he now knows Kihyun will see him. Will look back.

And besides, it'd be like sitting around waiting for Kihyun to get off work. The connotations of which…

"Hello?" A large, spidery hand is waved about in front of his face. "Earth to Minhyuk. Hello?"

He snaps out of his reverie abruptly. "Wha?"

The hand retracts itself, and when Minhyuk's eyes refocus he's greeted by Hyungwon's tiny face, nestled between his hands set neatly on either side. "Did you hear anything I just said?"

"Ah." He's been caught, hasn't he. "...Nope," Minhyuk confesses, popping the 'p'. "What were you saying?"

"I liked you better when you weren't here," Hyungwon grumbles halfheartedly. "I _said_, you're coming for the reunion next weekend, right?"

"Uh… yeah," he says, like he hasn't been thinking about it near constantly ever since Hyungwon had sent their old group chat a message about it two weeks prior. "I guess."

Hyungwon squints at him with such intensity Minhyuk wonders if he's secretly found a way to disassemble atoms with the sheer power of his eyes. "Kihyun's coming," he says abruptly.

"Yeah," Minhyuk says faintly. "I mean. Duh. Isn't everyone?"

Still watching him Hyungwon nods very slowly. "Yeah," he parrots back. "So. Don't flake out at the last minute, okay?"

Mildly offended, Minhyuk scoffs. "Of course not," he sniffs, nose scrunched up in distaste. "Who do you think I am?"

  


As it turns out, the question is an open one. Minhyuk picks at a hangnail under the table as Jooheon and Hoseok start bickering over the pronunciation of _gif_.

"What's wrong with saying _gif_," Hoseok asks. "It's not like the word has a root that tells you how the g should be pronounced, or anything."

"Maybe it's not _wrong,_ but it's obviously _more right_ to say _gif_," Jooheon retorts. He glances around, then points across the table and indicates with an urgent hand. "Kihyun-hyung, back me up. _Gif_ or _gif_?"

Kihyun's head snaps to face them at the mention of his name. "Huh," he says, sounding vaguely contemplative. "Never really thought about it, but I personally say _gif_. Sorry, Jooheon."

Hoseok lets out an almighty whoop of delight as Jooheon buries his face in his hands. From next to Jooheon Changkyun glances up from his phone and says, very seriously, "This conversation would make absolutely no sense in text whatsoever."

Kihyun is the first to get it. The brief confusion that flickers across his features immediately gives way to a blinding smile as he throws his head back and barks a laugh. Jooheon and Hoseok follow suit - Minhyuk knows this because he hears them, but for the moment cannot tear his gaze away.

"What's so funny?" Minhyuk looks up to see Hyunwoo, their captain the year before Kihyun, approaching with Hyungwon and Coach Kim. 

Changkyun turns around, looks Hyunwoo dead in the eye, and pronounces, very solemnly, "Your face."

"Oy, you brat." Coach Kim's lighthearted chastisement is punctuated by a swat in the head, as the three of them fill up the empty bench next to Kihyun. "Don't be rude to your hyungs on my watch."

From behind him thoughtfully Hyunwoo taps his chin. "_Is_ my face funny looking?" He pauses. "Babies _do_ smile at me a lot."

"They do that to _everyone_, hyung, it's not your face," Jooheon sighs. "Can we please hurry up, I'm _starving_."

"The insubordination you deal with," Coach Kim chuckles.

When Hyunwoo looks around Changkyun raises both hands, palms up in surrender. "I'll save you all the best pieces of meat when I cook, hyung. Promise."

The table does lapse into something approaching moderate quiet as the team peruses the menus and confers in smaller groups. Listless, Minhyuk elbows Hoseok lightly. "Hyung," he whispers, "I'll eat whatever you guys order, okay?"

Eyes lovingly fixed on the photos of gorgeously cut meat on the menu, Hoseok nods distractedly. "Okay."

This done, Minhyuk discreetly leans away and stares off into space. Except Hyungwon is opposite him, so he lets his gaze wander left to Hyunwoo instead, and then to Coach Kim, and then Kihyun…

Where it sticks, even if it's partially for a lack of anywhere else to go. Feeling the stare Kihyun glances up and gives him a very small smile in acknowledgment; Minhyuk near-flinches so sharply he jabs his knee into the sharp metal leg of the table by accident.

_I hope he didn't see that,_ he thinks, and then, _Does it matter_? Even softer: _We _did_ make up, right_?

They did. He’s sure of it; he was there. Minhyuk snorts to himself under his breath, counts to ten, and then slides his gaze back. He lets it rest there, as discreetly as he can, and tries not to be too baffled by how he doesn’t know what it is that he wants.

  


After the meal - deliciously grilled by Changkyun, their youngest, with some help from Jooheon - Minhyuk excuses himself and ducks outside for some air.

Outside the air has begun to chill in the most earnest turn of fall. He’s only just let his head cool a little when he hears the scuffing of trainers on gravel, and when he turns it’s to see Kihyun standing a few metres away, pensively watching him.

“Too warm inside?” he guesses, smiling slightly crookedly. 

Minhyuk tries, desperately, to look anywhere but the curl of that smile. He only succeeds in looking as jittery as he feels. “Y-yeah,” he stutters. “These places heat up fast.”

“You look like you’re shivering, though,” Kihyun points out. He steps closer, and holds out something knitted and checkered. “Here. You left your scarf.”

Minhyuk flushes, and takes it gratefully. “Thanks,” he mumbles as he wraps it around his neck. “Clean forgot about it.”

There’s a very brief silence, and then: “Something’s bugging you. What is it?”

Now he does startle. It isn’t at all surprising that Kihyun has read him like a book - he’s never been subtle, so he’s been told, and Kihyun’s sharper than most. What _is_ a shock is the fact that Kihyun is offering to hear him out. 

“I couldn’t - couldn’t make you my Aunt Agony,” he tries, smiling sheepishly, tight. “It’s fine, Kihyun.”

Kihyun hums a high note, scuffing his shoe repeatedly on the gravel, and then says, “Okay.”

“Huh?”

“How about this. You tell me about it if it has to do with me, and if it doesn’t then we’ll let it go. Alright?” He steps into Minhyuk’s line of vision, and smiles. “Does it have to do with me?”

“What? No!”

His slightly cocked head falls further into place. “Really?”

Minhyuk wrestles briefly with his integrity. “Yes. N-no - I mean yes - I mean no - Yes.” He sighs. “No. No, it doesn’t not have to do with you.”

He looks up hurriedly. “But it has a lot to do with me, too.”

Indicating a bench at the side with his head Kihyun walks them both over to it to sit down. “Let’s talk, then. You barely said a word all dinner.”

He hadn’t thought anyone would’ve noticed. Honestly, he hadn’t realised either. “Uh,” Minhyuk begins. “You know what we talked about.”

Kihyun’s gaze softens. “Yeah,” he says. “What about that?”

“I don’t know what I’m going to do now,” he confesses, very quietly. From inside the restaurant he becomes acutely aware of the sounds of people laughing and talking. A raucous laugh and shout winds its way through the other sounds; he thinks it’s Hoseok, always so unburdened in his joy.

Kihyun shifts slightly so their knees touch. They’re seated angled slightly towards each other on the bench; it makes him realise how close they are, how agonisingly far. “Why?” he prompts.

It’s easier if he pretends he’s speaking aloud to himself, not the person he’s placed up on a pedestal from which he’s only just laid the steps for him to take down. “I’ve said - told you, that I always thought you should be the one in my place, right,” he says. “But the other side to that is that - that ever since coming back, I’ve become someone who doesn’t have a dream.”

A wet, hot tear rolls down his cheek, and to his horror Minhyuk realises he’s crying. “I mean - I know it’s so stupid, but I’ve never been good at studies, you know, and if I don’t have swimming… I’m not smart like you, or hardworking like Hyunwoo-hyung, or like, really quick with concepts like Hyungwonie.” 

He bites on his lip as hard as he can to stop any more sobs from forcing their way out. “I don’t know what to do.”

Kihyun reaches a hand out, and claps it awkwardly over Minhyuk’s knee. “You _are_ hardworking, Min,” he says softly. “Even your injury - it was because you didn’t want to give up.” He lets out a quiet huff of air. “You’ve never _known_ how to give up. Can I tell you something?”

Minhyuk nods, once. 

“After that race in middle school,” Kihyun sing-songs distantly, almost puerile. “I stopped swimming for a year.”

Minhyuk jerks to look at him. “What? Why?”

“Spite, mostly,” Kihyun replies, laughing. “I was mad that _you _thought you could want me to do something when you - you wouldn’t do what _I_ wanted you to.”

“Which was?”

Kihyun looks up, inhaling very slowly before letting all of the air escape in a high-pitched sigh. He licks his lips and says, “Stay.”

The world rushes to a halt. “What?”

“_Anyway._” Kihyun sounds rushed, ruffled for once. “It took a lot of persuading by the others to get me back into it in high school. I don’t suppose that had anything to do with you?”

Minhyuk’s mouth hangs open. “I mean,” he says, guilty. “Maybe.”

“I _knew_ it!” Kihyun leans back and cackles. He reaches out and pushes Minhyuk lightly in the shoulder. It stays there, resting. “Jooheon and Hyungwon would _not_ get off my case, you know, swearing I had to help revive the swim club in our HS and it had to be me because they couldn’t find anyone else. I…”

The hand on his shoulder stills, then squeezes in a light grasp. “I’m glad I did it. But I probably wouldn’t have, if it hadn’t been for you.”

Preempting his confusion Kihyun rushes to speak some more. “So what I’m trying to say is - Min - you don’t _see_ it, but you do know how to push for something you believe in. And how to make those things come true. We - we probably won’t meet at least until after _suneung_, but… don’t worry so much anymore, okay?”

He stands up abruptly then, dusting invisible specks of dust off his jeans as he reaches out a hand to help Minhyuk up. “You’ll figure yourself out. I have faith in you.”

\---

So he tries his hardest. 

Minhyuk meets Hyungwon in the library to study nearly every day, poring through piles on piles of reference materials. Sometimes they’re joined by either of their classmates; sometimes they compare their own schools’ answer keys and compile cheatsheets together. He’d made a promise, of sorts, even if he hadn’t said it aloud.

He still doesn’t know _what_ exactly he should aim for, so he keeps it manageable: get out of this small town, make his way to Seoul. It helps that Hyungwon has long decided to aim for the same. It gives him something to focus on; maybe Kihyun’s right. The one thing he really knows how to do is not to give up.

It’s worth it when they pack their bags and leave for Seoul together, remains so even when he wanders onto the grounds of his upper-mid-tier university on the first day of Orientation alone because Hyungwon had gotten into a better school. 

Seated near the fountain in the central plaza, Minhyuk’s rapidly typing away on his phone when a set of footsteps comes to a stop right in front of him. Curiosity piqued he looks up from his phone - and blinks rapidly, gaping. He knows those shoes.

“Hey, Min.”

“_Kihyun?_” Minhyuk asks, dumbfounded. He sets his phone down on the bench. “What the hell are you doing here? Didn’t you tell me you got into Seoul National?”

Kihyun shrugs. “I didn’t wanna jinx it by talking about it,” he says, smiling. “But I got scouted for a full scholarship here.”

“But _Seoul National_,” Minhyuk insists, panicking. “If it’s before the official first day I think you can still make transfers, I can help you if you want - “

“_Full scholarship_, Minhyuk.” Kihyun cuts him off with a laugh, swatting his flailing hands away. “Also, the Math programme here is actually better. I checked.”

“Math progr -” Minhyuk begins, then abandons in exasperation. He knows he’s smiling like an idiot. He can’t be minded to try to stop. “God. Some things really haven’t changed, huh. Number-loving freak.”

He leans back, then, patting the space next to him in an invitation to sit. “You said scouted - you mean, for swimming?”

Kihyun colours - honest to god turns faintly pink - and says, “Yeah. They needed to up their performance in collegiate swimming, apparently, and. Well.” He shrugs, shy. “I clocked really well at nationals.”

Minhyuk barks out a laugh, delighted. “Ki,” he exclaims, grabbing Kihyun’s hands in his excitement. “That’s fucking amazing.”

There’s a sudden moment of still. Minhyuk follows Kihyun’s eyes as they flicker down in frames - low, lower, and then he’s watching the join of their hands, too, how his thumbs have tucked themselves into the crook of Kihyun’s.

He makes to pull them away. “S-sorry,” he stutters, except his hands aren’t coming back to him. In fact - and he must be really flustered if he’s making things up now - he thinks Kihyun’s tugging on them, twisting them around so their fingers interlace. 

Confused, he looks back up to find Kihyun watching him, nose nearly touching his. He manages a very small squeak. “Huh?”

This close he has a first rate view of Kihyun’s eyeroll as it happens. “Hey, dumbass,” he says, softly. “Just kiss me.”

A protest almost bubbles to the surface. But then a voice that sounds suspiciously like Jooheon’s screams at him to _shut your stupid mouth and listen to the man for once_, so, heart catching repeatedly in his chest, he does.

It’s not a very good kiss. Kihyun’s laughing, for one, and once he’s overcome his initial indignation Minhyuk cannot help but follow suit, smiling open-mouthed into the kiss. He hears their teeth clack more than once. He doesn’t mind.

“You never heard this from me,” Kihyun murmurs, just before pulling away, “But I think it was you I missed the most.”

Then he’s standing up and walking backwards, grinning at Minhyuk as he does it. “Race you to the assembly point!”

\---

The water has always been a constant. He knows how it functions - knows its wiles, its ways, and as he cuts through it now the motion is comforting and yet just enough to prevent his mind from wandering.

Through the deep clear blue he can see the end of his lap coming up. Minhyuk counts down, easing through the last of his motions until his hand hits the tile. He stands up and reaches for his goggles - and is taken completely unawares by a veritable _tidal wave_ of pool water to the face.

“_Argh!_” he gasps, tugging his goggles up and wiping his face off. His eyes are squeezed shut, but he doesn’t need them open to identify the culprit. “Yoo Kihyun, what the hell was that?”

Kihyun’s grin is audible. “Kaiju attack,” he hoots, clearly proud of himself.

Minhyuk pauses, hands still to his face, to squint suspiciously at Kihyun as he backs away. “You scared the hell out of me!”

“Aw. Is my big baby sad,” Kihyun coos, laying it on thick. He starts splashing closer, arms held outstretched and mouth dramatically puckered. “Does he want me to kiss it all better.”

“_No!_” Minhyuk shrieks, splashing water at him. “Don’t you dare come any closer!”

“But I _loooove_ you,” Kihyun insists, drawing nearer anyway. His voice suddenly changes. “You’re okay, right? I didn’t actually get you in the eye, or anything?”

Briefly Minhyuk considers getting him back for the prank by pretending he’s injured, but then he sees the genuine concern on Kihyun’s face and thinks better of it. “Nah,” he assures. “I’m fine.”

“Damn,” Kihyun jokes, drawing close enough so Minhyuk can reach for him and link hands behind his waist. “Next time I’ll try harder.”

Minhyuk scrunches up his nose, and touches their foreheads together. “Aww. You know I know you don’t mean that.”

From behind them there is a loud, put-on retching sound. “Excuse me, honourable friends,” Hyungwon calls from across the pool. “This is a reunion event, not a public lovefest!”

Unable to help himself Minhyuk changes course and pecks Kihyun briefly on the forehead before letting him go. “Sorry, sorry,” he calls towards Hyungwon, waving apologetically. “My boyfriend is just _so_ cute.”

“He just tried to _kill _you,” Jooheon objects, from the side of the pool. “What’s so cute about that?”

Changkyun shakes his head and elbows Jooheon in the side. “You forget we’re talking about the people who essentially flirted by repeatedly challenging each other to freestyle races over the course of their association,” he drawls. “This is hardly out of character.”

“Hey,” Minhyuk objects, at the same time Kihyun shrugs and says, “True.”

“Impossible,” Hyungwon says, but he’s smiling as he pulls himself out of the water and jogs towards where the oldest members of their group are sitting in the shade, watching them swim.

The water is so warm as to be heavy, and offers little respite from the dreadful heat of the sun. As he towels dry Minhyuk’s shoulder twinges in a reminder of what it is he has had to let go. But then Kihyun laughs at something Hoseok says, a crystalline sound, and for the moment, he thinks, he is where he needs to be.

**Author's Note:**

> comments are thoroughly appreciated, no matter how short! thank you :-)


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